Disturbia
by ShadowCrawlerX
Summary: Jared's just an angry teenager, but his whole life changes when he starts seeing ghostly things, then comes home to find his mom brutally murdered and his father barely breathing... Please Read and Review, it's my first story


**Prologue**

He stood looking in the small square mirror hung a few feet above the sink on the wall. He ran his fingers in his short grey hair as he examined his features. He was grey-haired from birth. And at that particular moment, his eyes were streaming, red and raging with fury. His face was screwed up, making furrows on his forehead. He felt like his head was splitting. His nose was searing with pain. Thick beads of blood trickled from it. These were the after effects of engaging in a physical fight.

Jared O'Brien had ignored the OUT OF ORDER sign and entered the dimly lit toilet. He had had to walk through the putrid wash of water that had accumulated on the tiled floor over the years. For some reason, the school never bothered to clean the mess. So long as they hung their useless sign, everything was grand.

Jared bent over the ivory porcelain sink and twisted the cold-water faucet. He cupped his right hand underneath the icy stream. He splashed the water on his face and hissed at the sting of it. The pain in his nose diminished. He watched red water flowing into the drain. After a couple of more splashes, the water cleared, he was satisfied. Therefore, he closed the tap and straightened up and gazed at his reflection as water dripped from his chin.

Jared closed his eyes and wiped his face with his collar. But just as he returned his eyes to the mirror, he saw something completely wrong. Something which is totally out of the realm of possibilities.

His chocolate brown skin instantly became pale. He stared with wide eyes as gooseflesh erupted all over his body. He shivered.

A thin ghostly woman with livid skin appeared to be behind him judging by the reflection in the mirror. Her face was extremely bony and her cloudy eyes were sunken in their dark rimmed cavities. She had unnaturally long and shaggy white hair which appeared as though it was being blown by an unseen fan. Perhaps what made her gothic and impossible was the fact that she was transparent yet she was as opaque as any solid object.

Jared whirled to face the deathly woman that stood behind her. But she wasn't there yet he could still feel her presence. Thick in the air. It was like a charge of electricity zapping through his entire frame. The teenager whirled again to confirm if he wasn't having amazing illusions. The woman was once again back in the mirror.

The boy jumped back and landed with a loud slapping sound on the wet floor. His heart was starting to pound. He could feel it bash upon his ribs as if it was going to tear through. Wide-eyed, gaping at the horrific reflection fixedly. Mouth hanging ajar as if trapped in a warped trance. He was downright scared.

His mind was washed blank by panic. Jared couldn't even begin to comprehend what was happening in front of him. He very much wanted to believe what was happening was all a twisted game his mind was playing. But that would be naive. What he was witnessing was never a product of his overactive imagination...

The woman's lips split into a leer revealing badly tarnished and crooked teeth. Obviously in an advanced state of decomposition. Jared could see layers of earth between them. She stretched one very thin hand with long bony fingers ending with exceedingly soiled nails.

Without warning, the woman broke into an ear-splitting wail. The sound was so intense that he was sure the fragile fabric of his eardrums was going to tear and he pressed his palms against them. But the scream still managed to penetrate. As she screamed, her freakishly long hair went haywire and began flying all over the place.

Jared watched with his eyes still painfully widened, horror-struck, as the woman shrieked at the top of her dead lungs. He was beginning to fill slightly dazed. Tipsy. Losing his balance. He threw both his arms to cushion his fall and landed, hard, on his bottom in the foul waters of the out-of-order toilet. The water felt slippery and soapy as his open palm connected with the floor.

The mirror suddenly cracked and split in many places under the resonance it was being subjected to. The shards plummeted on the porcelain sink and further splintered into smaller shards that showered the wet floor. A groan of terror tore his ashen lips as he gaped at shattering mirror. But the woman kept screaming, nevertheless. If anything, she increased her timbre.

_Is_ _there_ _really_ _a_ _shrieking_ _ghost_ _in this toilet?_ Jared asked himself.

Jared suddenly felt the urge to exit the wet toilet as his head cocked around to search for the wailing lady. As he expected, the woman was invisible yet her screams were still audible. He could feel her loud around him.. He struggled to his feet as they now felt mushy. The slippery floor wasn't helping matters. He wobbled a bit as his legs threatened to give way. And they did, after he took one step towards the exit. He fell on all fours.

Huge splinters tore the skin in his hands. Smaller glasses penetrated into his skin. He panicked some more as gushes of blood streamed freely into the slimy water. Pain shot from the cuts and ran the length of his arms. Another moan issued through gritted teeth.

The shriek never faltered. Just as loud as ever. As he stood again and supported his weight by holding on to the ivory sink, he caught the ghostly woman's reflection in the rippling water. Rivulets of blood snaked down the sink as he just stood there. Staring. He couldn't move. He was powerless. Confused. Scared. Convulsively gasping in an attempt to stabilize himself.

"O'BRIEN!"

The wailing immediately ceased as the cold voice reached his ears. The woman's reflection vanished. He turned only his head to see the owner of the voice. He knew. It was Mr. Fisher, the chemistry teacher. He always carried a stern look on his face. He did not hesitate to severely punish students who disregard the rules. And Jared had broken more than a few.

"O'Brien," he said, his chest swelling with anger. "What do you suppose you are doing in an out-of-order toilet? Do you think you can hide from your comeuppances in an out-of-order toilet? Oh, you are terribly mistaken."

Jared did not respond. He was in too much of a shock to even consider answering. Instead, he kept whirling in search of the wailing woman. Scanning every inch of the foul water. He even picked up a shard of the mirror and continued his search through it.

"What are you doing, O'Brien?" the teacher shouted. Still perched on the doorway. Obviously unwilling to wet himself by venturing into the restroom. "Answer me when I'm asking you a question!"

Jared did not answer. He kept jerking his head all around. Apparently appalled. Then he stopped as he realized he had shooting pain in his hands. Jared began to carefully wash his hands under the running water. Pulling the splinters so delicately. Wincing with the pain of tearing flesh under the cold, chemically treated water. He was so engrossed in his task and jumbled thoughts that he almost forgot the chemistry teacher.

"... explain what you are ignoring me for, O'Brien? Have you suddenly turned deaf?" Mr. Fisher yelled as he stood with his hands placed importantly on his hips. "Why did you break the mirror, O'Brien? Wasn't Carnival's nose enough for today? You can't just run around the school punching anything you like without consequences." The teacher had noticed the heavy bleeding and the shards littering the floor. "I have had enough of this. Follow me to the headmaster's office right away - Maybe you will find your voice there!"

Jared still couldn't find his voice. He uprooted himself and threaded out of the toilet. He absent-mindedly trailed behind the pompous teacher through the heavily populated hallway. He was such a sight. Clothes drenched in stale water, his face shining with tears and his hands dripping blood all the way to the office. Students stopped to stare. But Jared didn't seem to notice. He just followed with his mouth hanging.

"Jared O'Brien." Jared distantly acknowledged the headmasters annoyed voice as he sat in his office two minutes later. "Please, explain to me what you were doing breaking a mirror in an out-of-order toilet."

"Maybe if you had fixed the toilet ages ago you wouldn't have found me breaking mirrors," Jared found himself speaking without meaning to. He was unable to stop himself from verbalizing the words yet mere seconds ago he was literally speechless.

"How rude of you," gasped Mr. Fisher who was standing threateningly behind Jared's chair. His hands rolled into fists. "You will apologize to Mr. Crouch right now!"

"I will not apologize for speaking the truth," retorted the grey-haired boy. He didn't intend to be rude but he was anyway. He couldn't control his tongue. He was saying exactly what he thought the moment it popped into his brain. Was it some kind of disease one contracts after having an invisible woman wailing loudly in one's ears?

"Mr. O'Brien," said the headmaster as he straightened himself arrogantly behind his desk. His small eyes were suddenly ablaze with nothing less of anger. "I was quite willing to forgive the fact that you ran away into an out-of-order toilet in an attempt to evade your punishment. However, I was not willing to forgive the fact that you started a fight on school property. Taking into account all the trouble you caused in the past and your behavior today, I am going to give you detention until kingdom come. You are lucky I didn't suspend you."

"Then why don't you suspend me?" Jared mouth was unstoppable. "Let's just get it over with... Can't you see I need to go to the clinic? My hands are bleeding."

"Consider yourself suspended," said Mr. Crouch coolly. "A month."

Jared waited for nothing more. He just wanted to be left alone. He pulled himself out of his chair and banged the door out of Mr. Crouch's office. His mood had reached an all-time low. He couldn't even control his speech. Who knows what will happen next if he keeps lounging around. One thing was for sure, he didn't want to find out.

He walked through the empty corridors with his eyes staring moodily at the floor. The students had begun leaving when the bell rang half an our ago. The school was being deserted. And he suddenly wasn't sure if he really wanted to be alone. That ghostly woman had scared him. He didn't want to see that again.

In the infirmary. He was attended to by the school nurse, Mrs. Carter. She had her lips pursed in a reproving fashion. Her blonde hair was neatly pulled into a tight bun which, at that particular moment, made the plump lady appear to be as stern as Mr. Fisher himself. She was gruffly shoving Jared's hands in the sink as she cleaned her wound.

"Why?" she scowled at Jared as she wrapped bandages around his hands. Apparently, she was bursting to say something against his behavior. "Why did you have to start a fight?"

Jared, who was too stressed out to answer, stared at the woman with a non-of-your-business look. He did not fancy giving a recount of why he had engaged in a feast fight with a new student. He just wanted to go home and force down his mother's dangerous cooking. Which was ironic because she owned a three-star restaurant. At that moment, the vile apple crumble she had attempted to invent the previous night was inviting.

"Mr. O'Brien, never have I suspected you to be such an arrogant little boy," said the nurse breathlessly. "What were you thinking? Running around the like a headless chicken... Punching that new student... Stewart Carnival!"

"SPARE ME THE LECTURE!" Jared yelled as something snapped inside of him. His chest had begun heaving as he took to his feet. "YOU NEVER - ASKED- ME WHY I - DID IT. WHAT MAKES - YOU SO - SURE - HE DIDN'T - START IT?"

"Mr. O'Brien," said the teacher in a cold and rebuking voice Jared had never heard her use before. It was obvious, judging by her terribly widened eyes, that she was fuming with anger and guilt. It was true, she only assumed that he had started the fight. But Jared wasn't exactly an exemplary student. He had been known to bully students ever since his first day at school. The only reason the school had kept him this long was the fat cheque his father donated every single month. "I will NOT be talked to like that. I have known you for four years. And during those years you have been nothing less of a spoilt brat..."

Jared swelled even more in anger. He narrowed his eyes in an attempt to shoot back something mean. He was pointing insolently at the woman with one bandaged hand. But he didn't have the energy nor the words. Instead, he just turned and walked away.

A sultry, velvety night had descended all around him. The scent of freshly mowed grass and dust was thick in the air. Jared's lungs received the air, he almost coughed. Still scowling, Jared set off towards the school gates. Only a few groups of people were populating the grounds. They gaped at his bandaged hands with a grave fascination that made him feel like punching and yelling. But he didn't.

He kept anticipating a thin lady with ridiculously long white hair to jump out of a bush and shriek in his ears. He felt his insides squirm as the thought coiled around his mind. He needed something to siphon all his stress and fears into. He was so sure a game of Grand Theft Auto, the only outlet he had, would fix everything. His mother, in an attempt to make him study more, had taken all of his games. He had only managed to smuggle this one from what his mother considered to be a highly secured hiding place, her unlocked wardrobe. And that particular morning, he had gotten into a huge fight with her. He told her he hated her and wished her dead when she had refused to give the rest of the games back, though she didn't know he had stolen Grand Theft Auto back. He did not regret shouting at her though, she deserved it for what she had done. She had taken his only sources of happiness.

He then forced himself to be consumed in his thoughts that he didn't even realize how he had crossed a dozen dimly lit streets and turned many corners. He walked past so many people but he couldn't even remember any one of them except for the beggar who had recently taken to the habit of patrolling Schrieber Drive in the evening. Scavenging for food in the neighbourhood's bins. Sometimes the heavily dirty man would station right across Jared's house.

Right now, he seemed to be hastily moving away from something. As if he was being pursued. His terribly oversize overcoat flapping about after him. Jared wanted to throw him money but his hands were bandaged. The beggar was walking too fast. Half walking, half running. He didn't care anyway.

He trudged past the perfectly manicured hedge and continued in the soft lawn. From the looks of things, his parents were home. Which was weird because his mother never left the restaurant until eight. His father never left his office until nine. Yet both their cars were parked in the driveway and it was well before six.

The front door was wide open. He stepped into the dark room. Every light in the house was off. Hell, everything about today was off. As he breathed, he realized his mind was numb. He didn't want to fathom the reasons why everything was weird. His parents' presence meant there wasn't going to be any Grand Theft Auto session. It only meant that he had to tell them about how he was suspended. And he'd rather face the wailing woman than his mother. She would blow the roof off with her gale force screams. Which, Jared thought, were more famous than her apple crumble – more like apple bricks. Everyone in their street was familiar with how she can frighten birds perched in a tree miles away into a frenzy of panic.

He skidded on some liquid on the tiled floor. He almost fell and he tried to re-establish his balance. Jared couldn't see what the liquid was in the darkness of the house. He continued down the passage in search for the overhead light switch. He found it, punched it and...

Blood everywhere. Splashes and gory pools of fresh blood smeared all over the white passage floor. Prints smeared along as if someone was being dragged in puddles of their own blood.

Jared's mouth became dry and his mind followed suit. He was standing in a sea of someone's blood. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to run but his body defied him. Instead, he found himself following the smears into the kitchen like a zombie.

An open loaf of bread was placed on the silver kitchen sink. A tin of orange marmalade lay open beside it. A couple of roughly cut slices had marmalade hastily spread on them. Obviously someone had been trying to prepare his father's favorite snack. Then something unpleasant dragged his attention from the sink...

"MARIA!" he screamed. The scale of his situation was finally sinking in. Panic snaked up his spine. He screamed his mother's name some more.

Maria O'Brien was dead as dead could get. Covered in her own thick red blood all over. She was bleeding from her belly. Someone had slashed her midriff roughly, leaving a jagged opening spilling the contents. She was obviously butchered by the bloody bread-knife besides her revolting insides. Guts were piled besides it as if she was going to pack them back and rearrange them like patching up a hole on a coat.

But what was even more repulsive was the way her corpse was. It looked as though it had endured weeks of steady decomposition yet the blood was still wet. Her skin looked frail, badly wrinkled and leathery, some of it was peeling from her skeleton. Her bulging eyes were wide-open, glasslike, unmoving. Her mouth hung open as if begging for mercy. Her face was disfigured and scrunched in a terribly pained expression...

"Jalal!" His eyes snapped form his murdered mother to his father...

His father lay sprawled across the stained kitchen floor in his immaculate jet-black suit - now maroon. Submerged in the pools of his wife's blood. Jalal, unlike Maria, had no visible cuts of injuries, but he had blood issuing from his eyes, nose, mouth and ears. His skin was extra pallid. His face, Jared thought, still carried the pompousness it carried when he was alive. He hadn't miraculously decomposed like his wife. It might have been Jared's head playing tricks on him but he thought he saw his father's chest rise and fall ever so slightly. Barely.


End file.
